Aftermath of Avarice
by FidgetGlitterBlossom
Summary: In the end, the cost of his greed came in the one form he wasn't willing to pay. Choices were made, and as much as he may wish it, he can never go back. His only option now is to deal with the aftermath. Dark Cedric.
1. Solarium

**Author's Note:** Came to me last night. There was an inspiration, but saying what that was would give away some future plot points, so I'll keep quiet about that for now. This is just a teaser for the moment, as I have all the bullet points of the plot sorted, but don't know exactly when I'll get around to fleshing them out.

 _Current Cover Art by Basileaf on Recolor Me_

* * *

Onyx Ravenna was a frail little slip of a girl, with eerily pallid skin and waist-length ebony hair — save for her silver bangs. The gown she wore, an elaborate black and white affair trimmed with absurd amounts of lace, had been taken in countless times; but still it engulfed her rawboned frame as she sat in the plush window seat, reading a book of fairy tales that once belonged to her mother.

She was so immersed in her stories that she never heard her father come in; so he stood, regarding the child in pensive silence. Past his mid-forties, his hair was just beginning to lose its colour in the back, though his face — haggard as it often appeared from stress and insomnia — continued to repel all but the most subtle signs of ageing. He stood tall and lean, and he had long ago stopped that dreadful habit of slouching, adopting a posture more befitting a man of his station. His sorcerer's robes were hung — untouched for several years, now — in the tower he could no longer bring himself to enter.

In some vital ways, Onyx was just like his tower: monuments to the ghosts of his past, unwanted and crumbling in the wake of his own neglect. In much the same way he avoided his tower, most days he couldn't bear to cast his eyes upon this girl. So he sent servants — strangers, each of them painstakingly vetted — to tend to her needs, so he could keep his distance. Occasionally, though, he longed to be near the girl, forgetting how deeply her very existence pained him.

Today, on little more than a whim, he had cleared his entire schedule for her. He squared his narrow shoulders and drew a faltering breath, preparing to shatter the nearly palpable silence. "'Nyx?"

At the sudden sound of her name, she whipped her head up to face him. She said nothing at first — perhaps too stunned that he had actually come to give him a proper greeting — but when she met his eyes, her thin lips ticked upward into a familiar half-smile. Too familiar. Disappointment settled in the pit of his stomach as he found himself wishing, not for the first or even the hundredth time since the day she'd entered this world, that the child resembled her mother more. Even the girl's blue eyes, the only trait he could think of that even compared to her maternal side, were icy steel, lacking all the charm of those eyes that once reminded him of a warm cloudless sky.

"Daddy!" Onyx squealed, scrambling from her perch to hurry to the man's side; no doubt relishing the rare opportunity to be near her distant father.

His eyes travelled to the book she clutched to her side, her thumb marking her page, while she wrapped her other arm around his torso for an unreturned embrace. "Aren't you supposed to be studying?" he enquired, wondering to himself how she could have possibly happened upon the volume.

She stumbled backward, ducking her head and frowning contritely as she searched for an explanation. "I was studying, but Evie said–" she began, but he raised his hand, stopping her mid-sentence.

"Miss Evelyn", he corrected her abruptly, then gestured for her to continue.

Onyx inhaled sharply, then went on. "She said that I ought read more fiction, because it, it..." Here she paused, trying to remember the succinct phrasing her tutor had used. "Encourages critical thinking, which applies to problem solving in the real world", she quoted the young woman, grinning proudly at having remembered all the fancy words.

Her father was not impressed. "Utter nonsense. Those stories do nothing but reassure frightened children that the world is a good and kind place where everyone gets the happy ending they're owed", he chided, tugging the book free from her grasp and depositing it on the nightstand.

"I think they're pretty", Onyx squeaked, so quietly that her comment could scarcely be heard.

He softened as he took in her downtrodden expression, reminding himself that the child wasn't truly the source of his frustration. "It's none of your fault if your tutor is remiss in her duties", he soothed, brushing his hand lightly over her straight, silky hair.

This perked her up slightly, and he decided it was high time for a change of topic. "Come, now, we'll have some tea, then you can show me how your violin playing is coming along."

He slid into his chair, and watched as she sprung into action, retrieving her tea set and quickly, but delicately, setting out the porcelain pieces — hand painted so long ago by her mother — on the table he'd added so he would have somewhere to sit during his rare visits. When she was satisfied with her work, she pulled the bell for her room, summoning a servant who arrived with astonishing speed.

"Yes, Princess Onyx?" the young woman asked as she peeked inside the room.

She stopped short as she spotted him there, only to remember herself and curtsy deeply. "King Cedric, how may I be of service?" she blustered, forcing a wide smile in his direction.

"Some tea, Kateryn."

No sooner had he commanded it, than the maid was off again.

Onyx settled into her own chair, scooting it soundlessly beneath the table, and began fiddling with her empty cup.

"Now then, what shall we do this afternoon?".

She pondered the question carefully, her eyes never leaving the flock of purple butterflies that decorated the side of her teacup. "After the violin, maybe we could go for a walk?" she ventured, hesitantly, as she finally peeked up at him.

Cedric scowled at the suggestion.

Reading her father's distaste for the idea, she rushed to add, "I mean, inside the palace. Of course."

He leaned back in his seat, thinking it over, then slowly nodded as he warmed to the idea. "I suppose that would be suitable."

Kateryn returned with their tea and attempted to pour it, but Cedric motioned her away, so she left the pot on the table and exited the room.

Onyx reached for the pot, but his hand stilled hers, and she blinked up at him in surprise.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, drawing back from the touch as swiftly as he had initiated it.

"I thought I might pour your tea for you", she stated simply, retracting her hands to fold them neatly in her lap, instead.

"Don't. You could burn yourself", Cedric warned, taking up the pot and pouring the tea into their cups.

As Onyx leaned forward to blow the steam off of the hot beverage, Cedric let his mind wander to where he would take her on their walk. Much of the palace had been shut up, and he had no intention of reopening those rooms, or the old wounds they represented. He supposed she might find the kitchens interesting, but then decided that there were far too many ways for an eight-year-old to incur injury there. Cedric mentally went room by room, narrowing down the options until he realised that there actually weren't any. He sighed, catching her attention.

"Is something the matter, Daddy?" Onyx asked, her tone heavy with concern.

Her father was the only one who ever acted anything less than thrilled to be in her presence, and though she was somewhat accustomed to his moods, she was still unsure about how to respond to them. A servant once told her that her mother was the only person who had ever made him happy, but she abruptly stopped working at the palace before Onyx could press her for details on how the Queen had managed to do so. None of the current servants had ever met her mother, and they barely knew the king they served.

"I think we'll go to the solarium", Cedric finally stated, when she had all but given up on an answer, breaking the long quiet of their morning tea.

Onyx's curiosity was peaked. "What's a Sol... Sola...?" she fumbled over the new word, delighting in the unexpected indulgent smile from her father, no matter how briefly it was visible.

"Solarium. It's a special room that's almost entirely glass, so you feel like you're outside", he explained, glad he had thought of it. The princess was always longing to go outdoors, and surely this was the next best thing.

After their tea was finished, Onyx cleared the set away, then took up her violin, tucking it gently beneath her chin.

Cedric relaxed in his seat, his eyes fluttering closed as the first chords sounded, the song simply washing over him. She played a simple piece, one that transported the listener to a meadow in the heart of spring, with breezes swaying across the grass as the sun rose overhead. The music was performed with greater skill than one would expect from a girl her age – her talent for the instrument another thing she'd inherited directly from him. Her mother never could quite get the hang of the violin, no matter how many times he'd shown her.

The song slowed to a halt, and Onyx tucked one foot behind the other, bowing slightly as he collected his thoughts.

"Grieg, was it?"

"That's right, it's a newer one called Bådnlåt." Her pronunciation left much to be desired, but Cedric ignored it for the moment.

"Not bad. Be sure to keep your bow arm relaxed, though."

As she returned the violin to its stand in the corner, Cedric rummaged through Onyx's closet for a pair of black kid gloves long enough to meet with the sleeves of her silk under-dress. On his way back into the bedroom, he lifted a bedecked ribbon bonnet from a peg on the wall, then he returned to her side with the collected items.

Onyx pouted at the precautions, but she knew as well as he did that they were a necessary evil, so she slid the gloves on while he fastened the bonnet under her chin.

Cedric looked her over from head to toe, to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, then nodded his hesitant approval.

Onyx followed her father out of the bedroom and through the unfamiliar passageways of her home, enjoying the rare treat immensely. Despite her excitement, she shadowed her father closely as they travelled, growing increasingly aware of how easily she could get lost in the enormous palace. She'd once overheard a servant claim that they were 'understaffed', and now she wondered how long it would take for one of the handful of people her father employed to find her should she lose her way in the seemingly endless maze of corridors.

She didn't have long to worry about that, though, because soon her father stopped before a large door and undid several locks.

"Why is it secured like that?" Onyx enquired, watching him work the key on the last of so many.

He shot her a glance that made her feel silly for the question. "For your safety, of course", he muttered as he unlatched the final barrier and swung the large door open. He bristled at the overgrown room, making a mental note to assign a servant the task of sprucing the place up, but Onyx was enchanted by the sight.

She stepped into the middle of the room and twirled around, though she only made a half-circle before her father's strong arms stopped her.

"Be still. Don't make me regret bringing you here", he commanded, earning a firm nod from the scolded child.

Content with her response, he began to show her around the indoor garden, though he warned her away from touching anything.

Instead, she stayed on the path, delighting in the vivid colours and wonderful fragrances of the lush, aromatic plants.

He introduced her to a few of them, rattling off the medicinal uses the plants possessed, and she listened eagerly, loving the ease with which Cedric discussed this sort of topic. Perhaps if he weren't a King, her father might have been a doctor of some sort, she mused to herself as they passed long rows of a vibrant green succulent that he claimed was excellent for treating burns.

Every so often, she would stop and close her eyes, basking in the warmth of the overhead sun.

Cedric watched his daughter enjoy the room, appreciating the bittersweet nature of the visit. Her mother had always preferred the outside gardens over the confines of the solarium, the only reason he could tolerate being here at all, but they did spend some time collecting magical ingredients here during the colder months, and it took a decent amount of restraint not to dwell on those past visits. He was careful to make sure the bonnet fully shielded the little girl's face as they walked, but soon he caught her discreetly holding her stomach every so often, and decided to check on her.

"Are you feeling alright?" he questioned, coming closer to place a protective hand on her shoulder.

She hesitated, shifting beneath his touch.

"I'm a little queasy", she admitted, though she was loath to tell him because she sensed it would cut her trip short.

Cedric was already passing her to head back to the entrance, giving her no room to refuse when he said, "Back to your chambers, then."

"Must we? I'm sure if I just sit down–"

He cut her off with a reproachful glare before she had time to finish the thought. "It's all this blasted sunlight. You'll be safe in your room", he pressed, waiting impatiently for the child to follow him.

She suppressed a sigh and left the solarium, leaning against a wall in the hallway as he locked the beautiful indoor garden away once more, then led her back to her room.

Once inside, Cedric made his way to the window and drew the heavy black curtains shut, ensconcing the room's occupants in near total darkness.

"Come on, into bed with you", he demanded, walking to the large four-poster bed and lifting the blanket for her to crawl under.

"Yes, Daddy", Onyx answered sadly as she complied.

Cedric rang the bell again, planning to inform Kateryn that it was time for the princess's medicine, but she appeared at the door mere minutes later with it already prepared.

He eyed Onyx carefully as she took the capsule and chased it with some water.

She set the cup on her nightstand, returning her attention to her father. "Would you sing to me?" she pestered him, already looking like she might drift off soon.

Cedric nodded and began to sing the only song that came to mind.

 _"Cold blows the wind to my true love,_

 _And gently drops the rain._

 _I've never had but one true love,_

 _And in green-wood she lies slain._

 _I'll do as much for my true love,_

 _As any poor man may,_

 _I'll sit and mourn all on her grave,_

 _For twelve months and a day."_

When her eyes slipped closed and her breathing evened, Cedric confiscated the book of fairy tales and silently exited the bedroom, taking care to lock the door behind him.


	2. Family

Author's Note: Still not ready to put this on the schedule or update regularly just yet, but here's the next finished chapter.

* * *

Kateryn had been instructed to alert Cedric as soon as Onyx woke, so with nothing else to do, he returned to his own chambers to prepare more of his daughter's medicine beneath the watchful gaze of the taxidermied raven that sat on a tall perch beside his desk.

"Onyx will need a new tutor, Wormy", Cedric chatted with the long dead bird as he worked, a habit he'd never abandoned. "That's the fourth one this year."

He glanced at his wife's book and frowned.

She had foolishly believed that happy endings existed, that they could somehow have one together. He allowed himself to get caught up in her confidence, and the happiness he felt when they were together, and they both paid dearly for that error.

If the world were a just place, Cedric would have died that day, and she would be alive and well, raising their daughter to be a fine young woman.

He lifted the book and carried it across the room, setting it on the shelf below her intricately painted urn, right next to the glass case that housed the Amulet of Avalor. Nodding in satisfaction at the placement, he returned to his desk.

He was about to finish his task when a knock sounded on his wooden door. Cedric let out a groan and rubbed his face in agitation.

"Yes, what is it?" he demanded, trying his best to fill the last few capsules quickly.

The door opened, and his captain peeked his blond head in. "It's me, Your Majesty... Captain Hawkin", the younger man ventured, clearly hesitant to interrupt his king.

"I have eyes, man. I specifically stated that I am not to be disrupted today", Cedric snapped, cursing under his breath as he spilt some of the valuable powder on his desk.

"I know, but, well, our scouts have reported forces approaching from the n-north", he relayed the message, stammering as Cedric rose to his feet and spun to face him.

"How far?" Cedric demanded gruffly.

"Three days out, sire. Four at best", Hawkin reported, bracing himself to face the king's wrath.

Cedric grabbed his wand from the table and pointed it at the man. "Were you not told that I wanted to be informed if threats came within two weeks of the palace?" he spat out, narrowing his eyes at the captain.

"Yes, sire", Hawkin replied, sucking in a deep breath.

Cedric regarded the man in front of him, watching as his square jaw trembled almost, but not quite, imperceptibly. "Yet you give me only three days notice?" His voice deepened menacingly, and his grip tightened around the wand.

He had half a mind to actually make due on the unspoken threat, but Hawkin was Captain because he was the best man willing to serve and, with an unknown threat looming on the horizon, he couldn't actually spare the man's expertise.

"Due respect, Your Majesty, the scouts are spread increasingly thin, and–"

Cedric didn't allow him to finish the criticism. "If the scouts have complaints, tell them I will be all too happy to relieve them of duty", he warned, not a tad interested in what the men had to say. "How many?" Cedric interrogated before the captain could respond, tossing his wand back onto his desk.

"Roughly four hundred."

Cedric scoffed, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. This was now a waste of his time.

"Only that? Your men will ride out immediately, you will reach them long before they come anywhere near the palace, and you are to put every last one of them down. I'll join you as soon as I can", he gave his orders dismissively, ready to be done with the conversation.

"What if they wish to surrender, or maybe even speak of peace?" Hawkin questioned, earning him another angry glare.

"What good is the surrender of dead men?" Cedric enquired, purposely missing the point.

"Yes, King Cedric", Hawkin muttered, suppressing a sigh. He bowed deeply and left the room as swiftly as possible.

Cedric scooped the powder off the desk and finished his work, then leaned back in his chair, lost in thought. Weariness began to overtake him, and his eyes were just slipping shut when another knock roused him.

"Was I unclear, Hawkin?" he demanded loudly, but his angry expression changed when his daughter's handmaid peeked through the door and curtsied.

"You asked me to tell you when Princess Onyx rose", Kateryn offered meekly.

Cedric nodded stiffly, studying the servant. She had limp, mousy hair and a narrow face, though she was broad shouldered and sturdy, coming from a long line of peasant workers.

He couldn't recall offhand what village that line was from, other than the fact that they were specifically not from Dunwiddie. He never hired anyone from that village anymore, to prevent the locals from telling Onyx things he may not want her to know. About her mother, himself, even how exactly he came to be king.

Returning his thoughts back to Kateryn, it occurred to him that she was scarcely more than a child herself.

"Remind me... how old are you?" Cedric asked, his question clearly surprising her. She recovered quickly enough.

"Seventeen, come Sunday", she replied quietly.

Seventeen. That's how old... He quickly cleared the thoughts away. "That's awfully young. Are you having any difficulty caring for my daughter?" he questioned.

Kateryn shook her head. "Oh, no. She's a lovely little girl. Very well mannered, and much less rambunctious than my younger siblings." She smiled genially at the king.

"And your family has no idea what you do here?" He watched her cautiously to discern any hints of dishonesty.

"No, my lord. I've told no one, just as you requested."

Satisfied with her answer, Cedric turned his attention back to his desk and cleared his workspace. Once finished, he rose and the two of them made their way back to the princess's chambers.

"That will be all, Kateryn", Cedric dismissed her at the door, and she bowed before disappearing down the corridor towards the servant wing.

Taking a deep breath, he first tried the knob to assure himself the young maid had remembered to lock up, then retrieved his key and unlocked the door.

Retching sounds echoed off the walls, alerting him to a problem before his eyes even adjusted to the low light of the room, and he rang for assistance before rushing to scoop his daughter up.

"Are you alright, Nyx?" he spoke quietly, looking the princess over with concern.

She nodded weakly, but when she attempted to answer, all she produced were gurgling sounds, so he tilted her over and waited for her finish what she'd started on the tile floor.

"My goodness! I'll fetch some water", Kateryn stated as she saw why she'd been summoned back to the chambers.

Onyx seemed to be finished, so Cedric helped her sit upright.

"I'm better now, Daddy", Onyx told him, sounding like she was the one trying to reassure him.

He could feel her still trembling from the bout, so he lifted the featherlight girl back onto the bed.

When Kateryn returned with the water, Cedric instructed her to fetch him once the princess and floor were cleaned up.

Standing back in the hallway, Cedric took several deep breaths and stared down at his shaking gloved hands, willing them to be still.

He knew Onyx was often sick, especially upon waking, but it was quite a different thing to discover her in the midst of an attack. He had only personally witnessed a handful of incidents in her life, and they always unnerved him.

His thoughts wandered to the first time he'd seen his daughter, a tiny, beet red bundle just barely too large to fit in one of his palms, covered in blood and silently screaming. A parade of doctors followed, all with the same grim faces and hushed voices.

The baby wouldn't survive. First the night, then the week, the month, the year and so on. Don't get too attached, they said time and again, the only part of their advice he took to heart, internalising the words and repeating them over and over in his head like a mantra.

Cedric paced the wide-planked floor of their cottage, clutching the infant and willing the thing, for that's very much what he considered her to be at the time, not to compound his loss and waste his wife's sacrifice. The last thing she asked of him was to protect this child, how would she ever forgive him if he failed in that endeavour. Somehow, Onyx lived, though no one would go so far as to accuse her of thriving.

Eight years ago. Had it really been so long? The wounds still felt so raw, so fresh. Eight years ago, the only woman he would ever love pressed her already chilled hand to his face and urged him to let her go and save their baby, instead. He fought her – they could make more children, he'd give her an army of offspring, if she wished it. Tears ran down her face, seemingly taking the colour with them. She knew the truth that he refused to admit, that she was already beyond saving.

"Sofia..." Cedric uttered her name on a breath, realising that the wetness on his face was his own doing.

Before that day, he hadn't cried once in his adult life, and it was the last time he did so until just now. He fought the urge to be overcome by the emotions, stuffing them down into the black hole he imagined he possessed instead of a heart.

The telltale clacking of footsteps on the marble floor behind him alerted Cedric that he was no longer alone, so he quickly dried his eyes.

"Princess Onyx is ready to see you, now", Kateryn informed him, and he waved her away again before entering.

"You're sure you're alright?" Cedric confirmed as he approached the bedside, readying himself to leave if she wanted peace.

Onyx nodded, hugging one of her many stuffed dolls to her chest.

It was one of their traditions, whenever Cedric needed to be away from the palace for long, he would return with a soft toy as a sort of apology, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Since he mostly stayed away even when he was home, it couldn't be much different for her when he was gone.

"That's the newest one?" Cedric asked, cautiously perching on the side of the bed next to his daughter.

"Yes, I named her Molly", Onyx chirped out as she beamed down at the toy.

Cedric recalled that Molly was the tutor before her current one, dismissed for trying to teach the princess Latin against his wishes. She left the palace, with only false memories of her employment as his scullery maid, roughly six months ago.

"Yes, I remember her", Cedric answered with a forced smile.

"Do you think she'll visit sometime?" Onyx asked, holding the doll at arms length to study its sweet face.

"Perhaps", Cedric lied, looking out into the large room.

"Is Ev-Miss Evelyn leaving?" she prodded.

Cedric considered lying about that, too, but decided there wasn't any reason to. "Soon", he admitted, still avoiding her gaze.

"Why does everyone go away?" Her words astonished Cedric, who had always taken for granted that the child was unbothered by the frequent changes in staff.

"That's just how life works, I suppose", was the only answer he could come up with.

There was a silence, and he turned his head to see if she'd drifted off again, only to find her peering curiously at him.

"What will happen to me when you go away?" She pressed on. Cedric stiffened, choosing his answer carefully.

"I go away all the time." He attempted to dodge the discussion with a shrug.

"No, I mean... If you didn't come back", she whispered fearfully. Cedric sighed and ran a hand through his silver bangs.

"There's an old couple with a cottage. If anything happens to me, you'll go live with them. Kateryn has a map to get you there, and she has a letter for them explaining everything." He laid out the basics of the plan to his daughter; in case of emergency, the handmaid's only mission was to get the princess and the letter safely to Mystic Meadows.

"Am I... Are they family?" she muttered after some thought.

"I told you, Nyx. We don't have any family. It's just the two of us." He scowled at her question.

Onyx nodded, sorry that she had touched on what seemed to be a sensitive subject for her father.

"That's alright, I like us", she broke through his thoughts, grinning up at him.

Cedric suppressed the urge to scoff at her childish statement, knowing she only felt that way because she had no basis for comparison.

"Me, too", he fibbed, longing for a reality where Sofia was with them, Onyx the oldest of the several children they had once hoped to have.

That cottage in the woods that Sofia adored so much would burst at the seams with love and magic. He could almost picture it, though it broke what was left of his heart to try.


	3. Arnica

Too excited to sit still, Onyx squirmed as Kateryn attempted to brush her long, dark hair.

"Do you want a plait?" the handmaid asked, gripping the silky strands as tightly as she dared to avoid having them pulled away by the fidgeting child.

"I think Daddy likes it best when it's down", Onyx replied, studying herself in the mirror of her vanity.

Kateryn frowned at the girl's reflection. "The king hasn't said anything about visiting today", she informed her charge quietly.

"Of course he will, it's my birthday!" the princess insisted, too confident to be annoyed by the suggestion.

Kateryn suppressed a sigh and let go of the girl's hair. "You're right, Princess. I'm sure he'll be here shortly", she agreed, forcing a polite smile.

...

Cedric stayed in bed well past morning, his mind refusing to rest. Nine years had passed since Sofia's death, and it seemed he was doomed to spend the day rehashing every little detail that led to that awful day. Meeting her as a young girl and bungling the flower petal spell, foolishly using her in his attempts to steal a magical amulet, the broken look on her face when he stuttered out that they weren't really friends...

She was the one who convinced his father to hand down the family wand, swayed the king to reinstate him as royal sorcerer after he betrayed her, and even mended the seemingly impossible rift between himself and his sister.

With all she had done for him, all that she had given him, of course, he was hopelessly doomed to fall in love with her as she grew into a beautiful young woman, still eagerly attending magic lessons despite his earlier assumption that she would outgrow her interest in sorcery.

He pretended to ignore her innocent attempts at flirtation, sure that she merely had a crush that would pass, but inside he was already hers.

There was so much doubt, though. She was young, yet, and he was more than twenty years her senior, with nothing at all to offer her. Not to mention the king barely tolerated his existence, and only for her sake. He railed against himself, denying his feelings despite the way his heart ached for her. Nearly six months before she turned sixteen, she coaxed his confession out of him.

"I'm here for my lesson", Sofia announced, bursting through the doorway of his tower without so much as a knock.

He glared at her, and she let out a nervous giggle, stepping back and rapping her fist against the open door.

Cedric rolled his eyes. "That hardly counts, Sofia", he mumbled, plucking the petals off of a bright yellow arnica bloom.

Her eyes landed on the bundle of flowers on his desk, and she bounded over to scoop them up.

"Can I help?" Sofia asked, beaming a brilliant smile at the sorcerer.

He shrugged and gestured to the extra stool.

Sofia sat and began on the first flower. "What are these for?" she questioned.

"They're supposed to enhance psychic abilities, maybe even predict the future", he explained without looking up.

"Are you going to see who you marry?" she asked in that singsong tone of hers.

"Do the words 'confirmed bachelor' mean anything to you?"

It was Sofia's turn to roll her eyes, though she didn't respond.

"He loves me..." she stated, pulling a petal off and setting it on the desk.

Cedric's hand stilled, and he glanced up to watch her.

"He loves me not..." she said as she removed the next one, peeking at him from the corner of her eye, a mischievous grin forming on her face as she realised she had his full attention.

"He loves me..." she repeated the words and the action.

"What the devil are you doing?" Cedric muttered in bewilderment, studying the princess closely.

"You never did this when you were little?" she enquired, pinching the next silky petal between her dainty thumb and forefinger.

Cedric shook his head. "No one liked me when I was little, remember?" He replied slightly bitterly.

"If we were kids together, I would have liked you" she stated firmly, pulling the petal off and mouthing the next line.

"That's what you think", he rebuked the notion, dropping his bare flower to his desk and holding out his hand for another one, which Sofia quickly handed him.

"No, it's true. I would have sat in the schoolyard picking flowers. I'd take the petals off... just like this, and I'd say 'Cedric loves me'." She removed another one at the last words.

Cedric opened his mouth to respond, but she continued. "Cedric loves me not." Another petal placed on his desk top.

"Then you'd be a rather foolish girl", he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Sofia pouted at him. "And why is that?" she demanded, her brilliant blue eyes staring right through him.

Gods, he loved those eyes. Even when she was a child and he wanted to dislike her, those eyes had never failed to draw him in, albeit in a vastly different way than they had as of late.

Cedric licked his suddenly dry lips, choosing his next words. "Because if we were both young, you wouldn't need some silly game to know I love you."

It was stupid, he shouldn't be saying even this much, but she was presenting him with such a perfect opportunity, practically daring him to unburden his soul to her.

Sofia opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

"Maybe not", she finally replied.

There was a brief silence as she dropped her stem and started on the next one, but after a few petals, she renewed her chant. "He loves me", she went on, biting her lip to suppress a giggle.

"So who is it you're wondering about now?" Cedric finally gave in, not entirely sure he really wanted to know the answer.

Sofia let out a 'hmm?' before going on with her game.

"If we were children together, you said it would be me. But we weren't. So who is it?" he prodded.

Sofia glanced up at him through her thick lashes, pausing her work. "It's still you." Her voice was calm, but her hands trembled and her cheeks glowed brightly.

She couldn't mean it. It was too much to believe, to hope, that she honestly felt even a fraction of what he did. Oh, but he wanted it to be true so badly. Besides, Sofia didn't have it in her to play such a mean-spirited trick.

"Then you're still a fool to resort to such measures", Cedric told her, once he found his voice again.

"Are you saying..." her sentence trailed off as she searched his face for confirmation.

"I have no right to love you, Sofia", he insisted, curling his fists in frustration as his mind flooded with doubt, not of his feelings for her – he was sure of those – but of how repulsive he was for harbouring such emotions toward the youngest princess. Before he had time to register her movement, she was standing in front of him with her arms encircling his neck.

"But you do", she finished for him.

It wasn't a question. She already knew he loved her.

"Of course I do", he confessed, still feeling ashamed of himself as her hands moulded to the sides of his face, and she moved in to kiss him, advancing slowly enough to allow the sorcerer time to reject the action. Instead, he leaned in and caught her lips with his own.

It was a brief kiss, just a quick, chaste brush of skin, but it left his lips tingling, and he burned for more. He meant to send her away, to end this foolishness, but she kissed him again, and this time he deepened it.

For nearly half a year, he battled his baser instincts. Wanting far more from their relationship than just some sordid affair, he was a saintly model of restraint, no small feat considering the way Sofia tempted him at every opportunity. The night of her sixteenth birthday, she would be presented to the court, officially available for men to express their intent to marry her.

Cedric tried to do things properly. He paced outside the throne room all morning, his heart plummeting into his stomach as Roland finally approached.

"Cedric, this is a surprise", Roland greeted him, waving for him to follow the king into the throne room.

"I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you", Cedric began, willing himself not to stutter.

Roland nodded for him to continue as he lowered himself into the throne.

"I wish to marry Princess Sofia", he spat out, his cheeks burning as he confessed his intentions.

Roland's face cycled from shock to amusement. "Cedric, that's hilarious." He laughed heartily, even going so far as to slap his knee.

"I'm not joking. I love your daughter very much. I'm requesting your permission to propose."

Roland stopped laughing abruptly and narrowed his eyes at the sorcerer. "Ignoring the details of your station, which we'll come back to, you're nearly the same age as I am. You'd leave her a young widow." Roland began rejecting the offer.

Cedric hung his head. "Believe me, I've considered that", he muttered, hope already fleeing him.

"It's hardly appropriate to lust after a girl you've known since she was eight", Roland continued.

"Please, do not mistake my feelings for mere lust, Your Majesty", he urged the King, still unable to look at the man's disapproving face. "I feel very deeply for the Princess. No one in the world matters as much to me as Sofia does."

"I'm sorry, Cedric, but I cannot grant you this request. Tonight, Kings and Princes from all over the world will be asking for her hand. What do you hope to offer her that can even begin to compare?"

Cedric sighed. He shouldn't tell the King, but what other choice did he have. "She loves me back, sire." He chanced a peek at Roland's face, not at all surprised to see how angry the older man looked.

The King took several deep breaths, and his expression softened. "I suppose when you've been treated so harshly by others, it's easy to mistake her kindness for love." His tone was meant to soothe Cedric, but it only served to infuriate him.

Cedric opened his mouth to protest further, but Roland wasn't finished.

"I think it would be best if you cancelled Sofia's magic lessons and discouraged her random visits, as well."

The words cut Cedric deeply. Not only was the King going forward with his plans to marry her off to someone else, he would take away Cedric's ability to see Sofia at all. Without an answer, or even a bow, Cedric stormed out of the room.

Sofia was already waiting anxiously in his workshop when he arrived. When she spotted him, she raced toward him and threw her arms around his neck, but he merely stiffened beneath her touch.

"Did you speak with him?" she asked nervously.

Cedric felt numb inside. He bent his head and sniffed Sofia's hair, sure it was the last time he'd have a chance to smell her unique floral scent.

"Cedric?" Her voice was thick with concern, and she backed away just enough to study his face.

"Your lessons are cancelled, and you are to stop visiting the tower", he repeated, mumbling so low that Sofia took a minute to puzzle out his words.

"He can't do that. It's your tower", she stated firmly, wrapping herself around him again.

"In his palace", he pointed out bitterly, resisting the strong desire to return her embrace.

"Then we'll meet somewhere else. Didn't you say there was another cottage that belonged to your family? We'll go there to meet." Her voice was pleading, and he desperately wanted to give in.

"For how long? You could be courting come dawn, and you'll be expected to marry in two years", he reasoned with her.

If he couldn't marry her, he needed to cut ties. It would be too unbearable to watch her become another man's bride.

"Then what do you suggest?" she demanded stubbornly, still squeezing the sorcerer.

"I'm leaving, Sofia", Cedric broke the news as plainly as possible, pulling back from her grasp. "Tonight, before the ball."

"I'll go with you."

He paused to toy with the idea before rejecting it outright.

"This isn't a game, Sofia. I'll not separate you from your family. You belong here", he turned her down as flatly as possible. It was what he should have done from the very beginning, after all.

Sofia advanced toward him again. "You're my family, too. This is true love, Cedric. We belong together, wherever that may be."

Cedric wavered as her tears began to fall. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek and rubbed one away with his thumb.

"We're supposed to live happily ever after", she barely choked out, giving into the need to sob.

For the first time since he'd come in, Cedric hugged her.

"There's no such thing, princess", he told her softly, though it pained him to disillusion her.

"Take me with you?" She begged again.

Cedric kissed her forehead, his resolve already beginning to waver.

By the time she left his tower that afternoon, he had agreed; one of many choices that would haunt him later.


	4. Married

Author's Note: So the last chapter and this one go together as kind of a two-parter, so I'm uploading this one early.

* * *

Cedric insisted that Sofia go to the party, knowing that her absence from the event would be noticed too quickly, compromising any chance for a head start. He packed his things and waited for Sofia in her secret garden, sure that it was the safest place to meet. Wormwood flew circles overhead, his reluctant look out.

"See anything?" Cedric called up to his familiar for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Still nothing", the raven answered, perching for a break on Cedric's shoulder. "Have I mentioned that this is the stupidest thing you've ever done?" he scolded, his claws gripping Cedric a bit too firmly due to his own anxieties.

"Several times", Cedric muttered in annoyance, shooing the bird to get back to his task.

"When you lose your head, do you think I'll be assigned a new Master, or will they finally let me retire?"

Cedric ignored the question, and soon Wormwood let out a caw.

Not much later, Cedric heard rustling, and then the gate swung open to reveal Sofia, still dressed in her lavender ball gown. She nodded to answer the question his eyes were asking. Quickly and silently, he took her hand and they transported out of the kingdom.

It took them several days to reach the village in the kingdom of Corinthia. There they found a priestess, and wed secretly deep in the woods, a beautiful, private ceremony, just the loving couple, the officiant, and the gods watching down on them. Moonlight streamed into the clearing, illuminating their first kiss as husband and wife.

Cedric managed to find the old cottage that belonged to his grandfather with little difficulty, pleased to see it still in fairly usable condition. They consummated their relationship on a dusty old straw mattress, neither one of them paying much mind to the mess.

He could still remember that first time, the beauty of her body as she removed her travel worn gown, the feel of her velvet skin as he tried his best to memorise every detail of her. The way she dug her nails into his back as he coaxed his name from her lips over and over, like some powerful arcane chant.

Cedric had suspected such happiness existed, but never had he believed himself deserving of it, and he would have called someone a fool if they suggested he would ever find it.

When they weren't distracted with exploring each other, they talked. About everything, about nothing, until late night blended into early morning, and the sunrise painted the sky in brilliant hues of rose and tangerine.

He was still conjuring the image of Sofia's ethereal beauty in the dim light of the cottage when a knock disturbed his reverie, dragging him back to reality. With a groan, he sat up in the bed and ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to straighten it.

"What is it?" Cedric managed to croak out.

The door opened and a familiar face peeked in.

"Begging your pardon, your majesty... It's Princess Onyx's birthday, and I was wondering..."

He must have been giving her a dirty look, though he wasn't aware of it, because she faltered.

"She was hoping, you see... That maybe you would visit her?" she explained her intrusion, more of a question than a statement.

"Did she not receive the gift I sent?" he demanded, anxious to be left alone. Kateryn hesitated before speaking again.

"Yes, my lord, and it was lovely, but the princess wishes for nothing more than her father", she told him, clearly choosing her words carefully to avoid his infamous wrath.

Cedric let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose it can't be helped, then. I'll be along shortly", he relented.

The maid quickly took her leave, though she waited for him in the hallway.

Cedric rose and brushed his hair properly. He glanced at the portrait of his parents – now framed with garlic to ward off unwanted spells, causing it to only work when he willed it to – and wished he had time to speak with his mother before he went. She of all people would understand how he was feeling today, having loved Sofia dearly herself. He promised himself he would come back as early as possible and summon her, then left the room.

Cedric and Kateryn gasped in unison as the door to Onyx's chambers opened to reveal the small girl standing on her tiptoes atop a chair, stretching to reach a spot high on her shelf. The chair wobbled in what felt like slow motion, depositing the surprised princess to the floor with a sickening thud.

"Onyx!" Cedric was aware that it was his voice screaming his daughter's name, but he had no idea he was speaking as he raced across the large expanse to gather her up.

The cut on her forehead was already bleeding, and he pressed his hand to the wound to stem the flow, smearing the crimson liquid on her smooth pallid skin.

"Get out, Kateryn!" he shouted, this time intentionally, shielding Onyx with his body so the handmaid couldn't see her injury.

He heard her begin to protest, but she must have thought better of it because the next sound was the closing door.

"What were you thinking?" he barked out angrily.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. There's a chess set on the top shelf, and I thought maybe we could play together", Onyx blubbered, tears flowing down her face.

"Close your eyes", Cedric instructed, watching her closely.

When he could see only her eyelashes, he peeled off one of his gloves, trying to steady his hands and work up the nerve to stop her bleeding, knowing all too well that her body was unable to do so itself. He ultimately decided against it, though, and quickly shoved his hand back into its fabric barrier.

Sofia could have healed her injuries fully, something he was unable to do. He had long begrudged his inferiority at healing spells, a skill his apprentice surpassed him in early on in her studies, but today it was irrelevant. He sat the little girl up, hand again held over the wound.

"Why didn't you wait and ask me to get it down for you?" He was still fuming, but he managed to keep his voice neutral, recognising that he was angry at the situation, not the girl.

Onyx sniffled in response. "I wanted to surprise you", she answered, balling her hands in the lap of her frilly white dress.

Cedric switched hands and wiped his soiled palm on his trousers, softening at the girl's kind intentions. "I'm actually not a fan of chess. Would you like to play something else?" He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chess was a game he'd spent far too many hours teaching to, and later playing with, Sofia when she was no bigger than Onyx, and he couldn't bear to look at a chess board on the anniversary of her death.

"I don't have any other games", Onyx informed him, pouting slightly.

The door opened again and Kateryn entered with the Royal Doctor trailing closely behind.

"I have a Mancala board. If you promise not to climb any more chairs while I'm gone, I can go and get it while the doctor fixes you up", he replied.

She nodded that she would refrain from any more climbing, and he headed back to his room, ignoring his daughter's complaints about her medical treatment as the door to her chambers closed behind him.

He took a moment to change into unsoiled gloves, then set about the task he had come for. It took a little digging, and he briefly worried that the game had been left behind in his abandoned tower, but he finally uncovered it.

Soon, he was back outside his daughter's room, pausing only to note that voices were still coming from inside. He swung the door open to find Kateryn pouring tea for her charge before handing her the capsule that contained her medicine. A glass of water sat next to the teacup so she could chase the pill without waiting for the tea to cool.

Is it teatime already? he wondered, surprised that so much of the day had passed.

The handmaid noticed him enter and poured a second cup for him, smiling brightly in his direction. He forced himself to return the gesture and nodded at her as she curtsied and left them alone in the room.

His daughter's head was bandaged, no doubt with a catgut suture beneath the patch. Trying hard not to stare at the injury, he sat opposite her at the table.

"Do you know how to play?" Cedric asked, gesturing to the wooden set.

Onyx shook her head vigorously.

"It's very simple, I'll show you as soon as you take your medicine", he promised, watching as she eagerly swallowed the pill, drinking the cool water to help it go down.

He scooted the untouched teacups out of the way and opened the game board, displaying the brilliantly coloured glass marbles within. Her eyes lit up at the sight, and he marvelled at how easy it was to impress her, much like another young girl he once knew. Pushing that thought down, he scooped up all the stones from one of the pits.

"You select a pit, grab all the stones, then drop one in each spot until you reach the end of the board", he explained, demonstrating as he spoke.

"What happens when you reach the end?" she asked, observing carefully.

He shot her a look that reminded her to be patient, then dropped the two remaining stones into the first two pits on her side of the board.

"Now you try", he offered, holding out his hand towards his daughter.

She pondered her first move, selected the handful of stones in the second pocket and dropped them across the board just as her father had, then looked to him for an indication that she'd done it properly.

"There, I told you it was simple", he voiced his approval, then took his next turn.

"Anything particular you want to do for your birthday?" Cedric asked casually as Onyx scooped up her next handful.

"You mean like... going outside?" she ventured, but Cedric's stern gaze made her wish she hadn't said the words out loud.

"I think you've had more than enough excitement for one day", he muttered, frowning at the red patches that were already forming around the bandage on her head and just beneath the sleeve on her left arm.

The girl bruised so easily, he was sure she'd be covered in purple marks come morning.

"Then could you tell me about my mother?" she pried after gathering up her courage.

He scowled, but she continued to peer at him expectantly. A few more turns passed before he spoke.

"I've told you all of that before", he pointed out dismissively, avoiding her eager gaze.

"I know, but it's been such a long time", she pleaded, pouting at her father.

Another silence fell upon them, the only sound in the room was the plinking of the stones as they dropped into the pits.

"She was a village girl. The shoemaker's daughter. Her mother brought her along when she was summoned to the palace one day", he began, though he felt like doing anything but retell the tale, even in this highly fictionalised form.

"Was it love at first sight?" Onyx interrupted, her eyes widening at the idea.

Cedric groaned, sure that she'd discovered that particular concept during her brush with fairy tales. "No. She was just a little girl. A year younger than you are, now. Besides, I found her... irritating. I did everything I could to avoid her, at first, but she was always finding excuses to come see me", he recounted, trying in vain not to picture the cheerful little girl who so often burst through his tower door, mispronouncing his name and boldly wrapping her arms around his waist.

"When did you fall in love, then?" she pressed, not willing to let up until her curiosity was sated.

"She claimed that she fell in love with me when she was ten", he half-answered, still slightly disturbed by the idea of the young girl secretly harbouring such feelings for him.

"When did you love her?" Onyx questioned impatiently.

Cedric sighed and moved his stones, his side of the board nearly cleared.

"There wasn't any exact moment for me. It was a gradual thing. She wormed her way into my life and, little by little, my feelings for her grew. Eventually, my heart simply... belonged to her", he gave the rest of the answer somberly.

Onyx cleared her side of the board first, grinning victoriously.

"Very good", Cedric congratulated her, resetting the board.

Onyx wasn't ready to change the subject, yet. "So what happened next?" she pushed him, sucking in her cheeks as she chose her first move.

"On her sixteenth birthday, I asked the king–" he began again, but the princess cut him off.

"Your father, right?"

Cedric glared at her pointedly. "Who's telling this story?" he enquired, and she looked down at her hands contritely. "I asked to marry her, but he said no. We were from different social classes, she was too young for me, I'd known her since she was little. Every reason he could think of to refuse us." His face grew angry as he remembered his encounter with Roland for the second time that day.

"But you did marry her?" Onyx asked, confused because she distinctly recalled him saying they were married on one of the rare occasions she'd convinced him to talk about her mother.

"We ran away together that very night. We were married in secret a few days later, then we moved into an unused cottage my family owned", he wrapped up the story, thinking she'd be satisfied with ending it there.

"Did I live there with you?" she wondered out loud, and Cedric sighed again.

"No. We were there just over a year, and a little more than halfway through, we found out you were coming", he paused and studied Onyx closely. "Your mother was overjoyed. She wanted us to have children so badly, and so did I. I'd have given her a dozen little ones, if I could have", he told her honestly, thinking back to the numerous times he and Sofia had daydreamed about the large family they wanted. His eyes watered, and he cleared his throat, then took a deep breath before continuing. "Anyway, while she was pregnant, she fell ill..." he trailed off, avoiding Onyx's gaze.

"The same way I am", she added for him.

He swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, you contracted it from her. But no one knew how to treat it, then. There was no medicine for her to take." He shrugged helplessly and focused on the girl's face again. "After she passed, I moved us back here, and you've been here your whole life." He attempted to finish the story again, with the same fruitless results.

"What was she like?" she continued to beg for details, seemingly unaware of how miserable it was for Cedric to talk about.

"She was kind, selfless... beautiful beyond compare..." Cedric paused, finding himself unable to go on.

"You miss her", Onyx stated quietly, forgetting to start her next turn as she watched the sadness deepen in her father's features.

"Every day, 'Nyx. She... She was my best friend." A sniffle escaped his defences, and he cleared his throat again in an effort to mask it.

They finished the game in silence, this time with Cedric claiming a hollow victory.

* * *

Author's Note: Promise this is the last time for a while that something happens to Onyx. I don't mean to torture the poor girl, it's just easier and less dull to demonstrate her symptoms than to have a character simply list them off in thought or dialogue, or just have other people reminding each other that she's sick with no qualifiers. And since those symptoms are pivotal plot points from time to time in the story, it was a necessary evil. In this case, it also shows us something about current day Cedric.


	5. Mourning

Hastily pulling down the garlic that surrounded it, Cedric dropped the anti-magical barrier on his parents' portrait. "Mummy!" he called out, hoping she was close enough to the painting on her side to hear him.

Sure enough, the colours began to swirl together, and soon his mother came floating out, small at first, but quickly growing to her normal size.

"Oh, Ceddykins", Winifred said on a sigh, embracing her son sadly.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have some tea", Cedric managed, though his voice cracked slightly.

His mother nodded and joined him at the table he kept crammed in the corner of his overstuffed chambers. "How are you holding up?" she queried, studying her son's drawn face as he poured the brewed beverage into two teacups, different from the ones she remembered from her visits to his tower.

"Not well, I'm afraid", he mumbled, glad to be able to confess the fact to at least one other person.

Her eyes travelled to his late wife's urn. "That's to be expected, I suppose", she replied soothingly, blowing the steam from her tea and taking her first sip.

"How is father doing?" he ventured, not at all sure he wanted to hear the answer.

They hadn't spoken since Cedric's assent to the throne, but he knew the older man always had a soft spot for Sofia.

"He's pretending to handle it well, but I can tell he's a wreck. He was just mad about Sofia, and you know how he always wanted you to have a child", Winifred answered, frowning at the way her husband stubbornly pretended to be fine when she knew he perfectly well that he wasn't.

"He always was good at hiding his emotions", Cedric answered bitterly. He didn't know why he wanted to hear that his father was beside himself with grief, maybe because it would make him feel better about wallowing in the negative feelings himself.

"If only either of them could have been saved", Winifred stated finally, a sob escaping her before she could suppress it.

Cedric winced at the words, but said nothing. It would do no good, now. Too much time had passed, and the damage was done. Instead he stood and stepped around the table, bending to wrap his arms around the old woman.

"I'm sorry, Mummy", He told her softly, the most honest answer he could come up with.

She patted his arm as she attempted to collect herself. "You've nothing to apologise for. I have no doubt that you tried more than anyone else would have. It was that horrible–" she realised that finishing would just upset both of them further, so she stopped speaking mid sentence and just let out another shuddering breath, instead.

"Thank you... for coming to mourn with me", Cedric muttered. He sat back in his chair, and Winifred leaned across the table to grasp his hand.

"Of course, Ceddy. I would never let you grieve their loss alone", she cooed, letting go to lift her cup again.

Cedric began to drink his own brew, though he didn't share in the love of his mother's favourite flavour.

She managed a sad sort of laugh as he gurned. "That's the same face you made when I gave you dandelion tea as a boy", she pointed out, still chuckling slightly.

Cedric laughed with her, and it made him feel a little better to do so. "I suppose it's never quite grown on me", he confessed, watching with satisfaction as she enjoyed the beverage.

...

When Onyx and Kateryn finished sharing a slice of chocolate cake the maid had sneaked up from the kitchen, the princess yawned and stretched exaggeratedly. "I'm rather tired. I think I'll go to bed, now", she announced, eyeing the older girl to see if she believed the ruse.

"Of course, princess. I'll help you with your clothes", the handmaid volunteered, wiping her hands and face so she wouldn't get chocolate on Onyx's pristine white dress.

"That isn't necessary", Onyx tried to refuse, but Kateryn wasn't having it.

"Your father says it is, and I'm in no hurry to anger the king", she insisted.

Onyx studied her maid, grasping something she'd never quite noticed before, but was now certain of. "Are you afraid of Daddy?" Onyx asked, keeping her steely eyes fixed on Kateryn.

"Not as such... but some of the other servants whisper of his temper. I'm in no hurry to see for myself if the rumours are true", she answered, leaving the princess to ponder these words as the maid undressed and redressed her as delicately as one might handle a porcelain doll.

"But you've never seen it yourself, so it might just be a lot of nonsense", the princess ventured.

Kateryn nodded her agreement. "Probably just people with not enough to do but gossip", she supplied, guiding the princess to bed and tucking her beneath the heavy blankets, necessary because her father wouldn't allow the old fireplace in her room to be lit, even on the coldest of evenings.

The girls bid each other goodnight, then the maid left.

Onyx quickly sat back up. She was a little tired, but she had far too much on her mind to go to sleep just yet. Her father's words from earlier swam through her thoughts, and she needed to sort them out before she could truly rest.

Her mother had been a child when they met, and he found her irritating. Somehow, she had persisted until she curried his favour. Well, if her mother could win her father's love, then it stood to reason that she could do the same. Not romantic love, of course, she was old enough to know the difference, but he might at least not seem so burdened by her very presence. For a moment, she even dared to hope that he could someday enjoy spending time with her.

Then, it dawned on her. He said her mother had sought him out, something she couldn't possibly do. She eyed the perpetually locked bedroom door in frustration and groaned, her plan failing before it had ever really begun. If I can't go to him... she told herself, sliding delicately out of bed.

She stumbled in the dark until she found the curtains, drawing them to find just enough moonlight streaming in. Fetching her quill, ink, and parchment normally reserved for lessons, she curled up in the window seat and used her best penmanship to write her father a note.

Finished with her task, she blew the ink dry and hugged the letter to her chest, so exhausted now that sleep claimed her before she had any hope of realising it was coming for her.

...

Eventually, it became clear that Winifred was getting tired, but wouldn't leave him until he promised he was better and would sleep, so Cedric did just that. After she transported home, he carefully hung the garlic around the portrait again, then headed out into the palace corridors to wander around until he became too weary to stand, as he did on many nights.

As he approached his daughter's room, his pace slowed, then stopped outright. He wondered if she was still up, though he doubted she was, considering how much sleep she required. His hand fished out the key before his brain truly finished debating whether or not to go in, so he stood staring down at the ornate metal device.

He couldn't remember telling her happy birthday, and he supposed that was a good enough reason to check in on the child, just this once. He turned the lock and went in, glad he had when he saw her sleeping in the window with the curtains open. Taking a few deep breaths to keep from getting angry, he made a mental note to speak with her handmaid about this incident first thing in the morning.

When he lifted Onyx to carry her to the bed, she sighed slightly and blinked up at him.

"You could have been hurt, 'Nyx."

She simply mumbled some nonsense about a letter and fell back asleep. Her arms dropped to her sides, and he was so focused on making his way safely across the dark room with his fragile bundle that he didn't see the scrap of parchment that fluttered to the ground.

"Happy birthday, Princess Onyx", he whispered as he tucked the small girl into her bed.

After he finished, he stood over his daughter and examined her in the low light. Though he resented the way she stubbornly insisted on taking after him, he also had to admit that she was pretty, with her pale skin and long dark hair. More so when she was sleeping and he wasn't expected to interact with her. He reached out a hand to stroke her cheek, but stopped just short, deciding against it at the last second. Instead, he returned to the window long enough to pull the thick curtains closed, then hurried out of the bedroom, locking the door before walking away from the room.

Once he was a safe distance away, he leaned against the wall and slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. Between the incident with the chair earlier and what would have happened come morning if he hadn't had the unusual urge to check in on his daughter, the weight of her symptoms felt like it was crushing him, adding to the stress of the grim anniversary. He thought back to the words of the never ending string of doctors. Don't get attached. Sound advice, but it was nearly impossible to avoid when she was all he had. His mind wandered, against his will, to that long ago night when she'd been taken from him.

...

The door to the cottage burst open, the sound waking Cedric from his sleep with a jolt. His eyes shot wide as the royal guards began to infiltrate his home.

"What is this? Get out of here at once!" he demanded, struggling to his feet. The next thing he remembered seeing was Roland's face.

"Where is my son, Cedric?" he asked, his face red and angry as he peered viciously at the sorcerer.

"He's dead, and the world rejoices for it", Cedric spat out, for once not wavering during a confrontation with the king.

In hindsight, he should have seen the strong backhand coming. He moved to retaliate, but guards had found their way behind him and held his arms fast, though he couldn't recall exactly when they had done so.

"Take him to the palace. Lock him in the dungeon and schedule his execution", Roland gave the orders in front of him, still staring daggers through the sorcerer. "Search the cottage. Find Princess Sofia and bring her home", he continued, giving these orders quietly to the guard beside him.

Cedric was already being led away, and when he tried to respond, a gauntleted hand clasped his mouth tightly.

Just as the king was about to leave with his prisoner, a loud wail rang out through the home, attracting the attention of all present. Cedric used this opportunity to struggle free, racing the king to the infant's cradle only to be caught again before he could get near.

"Is this..." Roland began in bewilderment, as he scooped the infant out of her bed, lightly running a finger across the impossibly small child's cheek.

"Please, Your Majesty! The girl is deathly ill!" Cedric shouted, using all of his strength on attempts to break free from the strong grip around his limbs.

The King remained silent for so long that Cedric thought he would say nothing else, and the guards began to drag him away again.

"She needs medicine. It's kept in the drawer next to her bed. Please!" he cried out again, barely able to hold his position.

"As a princess, she'll have the very best doctors", Roland replied, walking right past the small chest without showing any intention of grabbing the powdered curative.

"The doctors can do nothing. They said she wouldn't survive her first night. She lives because of me, because of the medicine I made her. If you leave it here, she will be gone by morning!" Cedric kept on until the guard roughly covered his mouth again.

Finally heeding Cedric's warning, Roland retrieved the powder from the drawer, and the men left.

Outside, Cedric was shackled and forced into the waiting coach, seated on the bench opposite the king, who was still admiring his newly discovered granddaughter.

He could use magic, kill the king, stop the coach, return to the cottage with his child, but with Roland holding the infant closely, it was too much of a risk that she might be harmed as well.

Instead, he stared out the window as they passed the vehicle belonging to the guards who were still searching for Sofia, deciding he would say nothing about how wasted their efforts would prove. Besides, he may not be convinced that the sorcerer was necessary for the new princess's survival, but if Roland believed that Cedric knew where to find Sofia alive, the King just might stay his execution.


	6. Ribbons

Author's Note: As promised, an entire chapter where Onyx isn't harmed, though I doubt she'd be too thrilled with her father's reaction to her letter.

* * *

Onyx paced her room, unable to calm her nerves. Every few seconds, she shot anxious glances at the door. She wondered how long it had been since Kateryn left with the letter, though she was fairly certain it hadn't been nearly as long as it felt.

Daddy will read it. He'll come. I'm sure he will. The words repeated on loop in her mind as she desperately tried to make herself believe them even slightly. More time passed, more trips around the floor.

She eyed her lessons, stacked neatly on her desk, and decided she should work on them. It would kill time, and he would be pleased to know she'd been studying. Besides, her newest tutor, Mrs Warde, was an older, no nonsense sort who expected them to be handed in punctually.

Sitting at the desk, she tried hard to concentrate but wound up simply tapping the quill impatiently against the writing surface, eyes glued to the door once again, chin resting on her palm.

Finally, the door opened, and Onyx flew to her feet. She began to smooth her black ruffled dress, only to realise her hands were ink stained from fidgeting with the writing instrument, so she quickly hid them behind her back. Her handmaid slowly stepped into the room, alone, and Onyx stared at her expectantly.

"Well? Is Daddy coming?" she enquired.

...

Cedric frowned at his door as the knocking sounded out a second time. He had a meeting with Captain Hawkin in twenty minutes, and he was trying his best to read through a chapter of his latest acquisition, a hefty novel about a man sentenced to an inordinately large amount of time for stealing a loaf of bread, except now he had to deal with this bothersome distraction instead of finishing.

"What. Is. It?" he growled out, hoping whoever it was would lose their nerve to the bite in his tone and leave him be; this tactic worked surprisingly often, he had found.

Unfortunately, the door opened and the girl in charge of his daughter's care poked her irksome face in, glancing around the room until she found him.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty", she began, curtsying as she entered the room completely, dashing any expectations that she would simply apologise for bothering him and then make a hasty retreat.

"What do you need, Kateryn?" he grumbled, marking his page and slamming the heavy book shut.

"Princess Onyx asked me to deliver this letter, you see..." she explained, holding the parchment out to him with a limp wrist.

He eyed the letter warily, not reaching to accept it until she finally pushed it even farther towards him.

"What does it say?" he asked, glancing suspiciously at the maid.

"Begging your pardon, but I was specifically instructed that it was for your eyes only", she answered apologetically.

"I have to wonder if you may be too permissive with my daughter", he shot, opening the missive to scan the message quickly.

Kateryn had the good sense not to respond.

"She has very nice handwriting, doesn't she?" he mused, though he crumbled the note and nonchalantly deposited it in the rubbish bin.

"She practises quite often. Calligraphy, too", Kateryn informed him, her eyes on the mangled letter.

Cedric nodded in approval. "You will inform Onyx that I have a meeting presently, and I'm unsure of my timetable for the rest of the day", he instructed.

The maid turned to leave, but Cedric wasn't finished. "Are you aware of the seriousness of Onyx's condition?" he demanded, his eyes fixed firmly on her as she spun around to face him again, clearly taken aback at the question.

"Of course, Your Majesty", she answered, her voice wavering slightly.

He narrowed his eyes, recalling how he found the young girl the night before. "Did you or did you not allow her to fall asleep in the window seat with the curtain open?"

The maid's jaw dropping at the accusation. "I-I didn't... I tucked her into bed before I took my leave last night." She seemed sincere enough, and Cedric pondered this.

"From now on, you are to remain by my daughter's side until you're convinced that she is sleeping", he replied after some thought, waving his hand dismissively.

"Yes, sire", she answered quickly, bowing and leaving Cedric to the solitude of his chambers.

Cedric unlocked his desk drawer and ran his fingers fondly over a stack of letters, each written in gradually improving hand over the course of eight years. Pulling them out, he flipped through until he found the one he was searching for.

"My dearest Mister Cedric," the letter began, written in the scrawled hand of a young princess who spent her first eight years learning to write as peasants do, quickly and with little regard for aesthetic. "I've missed you terribly while I was away in Tangu this last week, and I was hoping you might see fit to join me for a tea party this afternoon. I thought we could meet in the secret garden, the one with the yellow ribbon.

Please come,

Sofia

P.S. I'll make sure there are plenty of fly cakes. I know they're your favourite."

...

Cedric smirked at the letter, slipped under his door minutes ago. He had been perplexed when he heard the telltale soft footsteps approaching without the signature knock sounding immediately after, but now he assumed it was because the girl was already halfway to the kitchen, no doubt to see to the preparation of likely half a dozen fly cakes personally.

He stood to file the letter away in his desk, atop so many others, when something on the floor caught his eye. Stooping down to investigate it, he chuckled to find a yellow ribbon that had apparently been tucked away inside the envelope. He tied it around his wrist and went to his chambers to fetch his good robe, the one he usually reserved for special occasions.

After wrapping up some projects in an effort to kill time, he made his way through the winding palace corridors, out the grand front entrance, and through the labyrinthine royal gardens until he came to the familiar gate. He could already hear the princess humming away as she set out her hand painted tea set within.

Swinging the gate open, he was surprised to find Sofia dressed in a yellow gown, no doubt handed down from her older sister, with a matching yellow ribbon tied around her throat.

"You know, Sofia, I am a terribly busy man", he scolded her with feigned annoyance, crossing his arms in front of his chest, though his fond smile gave him away in an instant.

"I'm well aware, but even amazing sorcerers need a break sometimes", she countered, gesturing for him to join her on the blanket she'd spread out.

He chuckled and sat, accepting the tea she handed him with a polite nod. "Yes, I suppose they do. As do overachieving Princesses." He quipped, eyeing the picnic basket eagerly.

Sofia stuck her tongue out at him in mock indignation, and they both burst out in laughter.

"I've missed you, too", he admitted earnestly as she set a fly-cake on his plate.

"Of course you did, there's been no one to clean your workshop or do all the tedious parts of potion brewing", she retorted, equally unable to maintain a straight face.

Cedric sipped his tea, wondering just when she'd got so talented at returning his lighthearted barbs.

"Quite right. You'll be shocked by how out of sorts the tower has got", he admitted.

Sofia rolled her eyes, though they twinkled merrily.

"Honestly, though. The palace just isn't the same without you."

Sofia blushed a pleasant pink, mouthing 'thank you' to him for the comment, bordering on high praise from the usually sardonic man.

The two ate in companionable silence, enjoying the ambiance of the garden's animal inhabitants. The cicadas, Sofia's favourite late summer sound, seemed to be putting on a concert just for them, and a pleasant breeze ruffled the surrounding greenery.

"Say, isn't your birthday coming up?" Cedric questioned as he wiped his hands on his trousers, earning a giggle from Sofia, who hurried to hand him a white cloth napkin.

"Mhmm. I'll be eleven in two weeks", she bubbled, clearly excited.

"All grown up." Cedric grinned before finishing his tea and holding his cup out for a refill.

Sofia opened her mouth to say something, then quickly shut it again, not able to fully hide the hint of a frown that followed. "I suppose so..." she answered, keeping her eyes on the teapot as she poured.

"Is everything alright?" Cedric questioned, setting his tea aside to cool and grasping Sofia's hand, his eyes studying her with concern.

Sofia flashed him a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes "Y-yes. I'm just..." Her voice trailed off and she fidgeted with her skirt while avoiding his gaze. Cedric squeezed her hand tighter, and she returned the gesture. She took a deep breath, then fixed her eyes on him in determination. "Would you be my first dance partner at my birthday ball?" She squeaked out, surprising the sorcerer.

He pondered the question. He absolutely loathed royal events, and usually spent them hiding out until he was expected to entertain the gentry, then retreating to his tower as swiftly as he could. It clearly meant a lot to Sofia, though, and she'd done so very much for him over the years.

"Does it mean I won't be expected to do any spells at your party?" he teased, his mouth quirking into that odd half smile of his.

"Oh, no. I want fireworks. Purple ones shaped like butterflies", she chirped excitedly.

Cedric was relieved to see her back to her normal, annoyingly cheerful self. He gave an exaggerated groan. "Butterfly fireworks and dancing it is."

Sofia closed the distance to wrap her arms around his neck. "Thank you!" she cheered, and he lightly returned the embrace, as he had begun to do recently, his defences worn down by nearly three years of friendship.

"I warn you, Sofia. Only one dance", he stated firmly.

Sofia giggled again. "We'll see..." she answered in her sing-song tone.

...

Cedric tucked the letter away and plucked up the yellow ribbon, rubbing it thoughtfully between his thumb and forefinger. He hadn't known then of her blossoming feelings for him. If he had, he would have set her straight. Maybe that's all it would have taken. She'd be upset at first, perhaps, but then she'd move on to boys her own age, a prince from her school most likely.

Queen of some kingdom, she'd return home on holidays, little princess and princesses – copies of herself at that age – clinging to her skirts in the unfamiliar palace she grew up in.

Maybe she'd even stop in for tea, allowing him to regale her with overblown tales of recent magical exploits. Certain that he still would have fallen for her, because it was so clearly inevitable, he recognised how painful it would be, yet that paled in comparison to his grief.

Yes, he would much rather see her alive and well on the arm of another man than gone forever.

...

Cedric sat stiffly in his throne as Hawkin updated him on the state of military affairs. More money was needed, more scouts, better training for the newer recruits. Other than that, things had been surprisingly quiet, though that didn't do much to reassure Cedric that there weren't any current threats. Quiet almost always meant someone, somewhere was plotting, biding time and gathering resources for another attempt to remove Cedric from the Enchancian throne. Quiet was dangerous, a state to be treated with caution and suspicion.

Despite all this, Cedric's mind was not on the meeting. Rather, it was back in his chambers, rereading the well-penned letter from his daughter, the one he'd made an excellent show of discarding.

It wasn't the girl's fault that her letter almost mirrored that of her mother's, written over a decade preceding. She had no way of knowing, nor did she have any idea of how upsetting it was for him to receive such an invitation. And yet, he was angry, bordering on furious.

He didn't want her letters, didn't want anything about this life he somehow found himself trapped in. All he wished for right now was to be back in that garden, having tea with Sofia and discussing her upcoming birthday.

The child may be all he had left, but she would always be a physical manifestation of his sin, and a constant reminder of his painful loss. No amount of tea parties would ever change that simple fact.


End file.
